Be My Savior
by Lily-On-Water
Summary: Up until now she was sure that Dylan was her soulmate; so why is she suddenly doubting that? And why is she doubting that on the day of her wedding? As she's walking down the aisle? What will happen when a certain bird-kid from the past chooses to object?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own Maximum Ride; it's a touchy subject for me so let's just leave it at that. *Smiles***

Her mother had told her that it was just nerves, that all brides get the jitters before stepping up to the plate and saying the big 'I do.' She said that it was perfectly natural and that she shouldn't worry about it; that she should go with her gut and do what she had promised to do when she got engaged. She had said that when she got up there she would know, she would look into Dylan's eyes and she would know that he was the one for her. And he is…he is the one for her, he was made for her, and he loves her; he is, essentially her perfect other-half.

Up until now she had been one-hundred percent sure that that was true. One-hundred percent sure that Dylan was her perfect other half, but now, now that the time has come…she sighs, it's just hard. She puts on her dress, though, she puts it on and she smiles, smiles even though it feels like she's walking to her death.

She doesn't know why it feels like that, like she's walking to the gallows, but it does. It really does. Even as she walks down the aisle, even as she gazes at the beautiful boy waiting for her there, and he is beautiful, she can't shake the feeling. Can't even come close to shaking the feeling; she needs to get out of here, she needs to get out of this; she needs to, but she can't. She can't leave Dylan, she can't leave him there, standing and waiting for her, she can't leave him like that because she does love him. No matter what she might be feeling right now she does love him, she knows that she loves him, for the last four years she has gotten up every day with a smile on her face because he was always there for her. He was always there and he loved her just as much as she could ever love him, probably more. So why does she feel like this now?

She hardly stops when she gets to the end of the aisle, and if not for Iggy's firm grip on her arm she feels positive that she wouldn't have, she would have been so lost in her own thoughts, so deeply tuned into them…she could have walked through the walls of the church without notice. But Iggy's arm does stop her, it is gentle, but it is enough; she gives him a shy smile that he can't see and allows him to kiss her on the cheek before moving back to his seat. She hardly feels his lips.

She hardly feels anything, because now her hands are shaking, rapid tremors that are almost violent enough to hurt. She is almost positive that her hands are sweating, but she can't feel that, not with the other barrage of emotions exploding inside of her.

Dylan reaches for her hands and she swallows back whatever is rising in her throat and lets him take them, his hands are clammy and for whatever reason she suddenly needs to drop them. She needs to drop them because right now they are like scorpions; surely they mean to hurt her? Surely she shouldn't be allowing them to wrap around her own hands, surely they will attack at any second?

She swallows back the thought, doesn't allow herself to think, about anything. She pretends to look into his eyes, but she isn't seeing them, not at all, she isn't seeing anything, just a warped future. A future where it is like this every day; where she feels like this every day; where he looks like this every day…for the rest of her life. The thought is painful and she feels tears beading at the corners of her eyes; feels them running down her cheeks, he wipes them away with a touch that is like sandpaper. It is not his usual touch, not at all; it must be in her head, it must be. If it's not in her head…she can't think about that. Can't let herself think about that. The pastor is speaking, but she hasn't heard one word of what he's said so far so she doesn't know if this is an appropriate time to cry. It doesn't really matter, though, because she is the bride and this is her day, right? This is her day and she can do what she wants to do, right? If she wanted out of this…if she really wanted out of this, she could get out of this…right? She could get out of this…she just doesn't want to, not badly enough…right?

Her thoughts are next to hysterical but even through them she registers the pastor's question, the question that could solve all of her problems…"Does anyone have any reason as to why these two should not be wed?"

'YES!' Some part of her screams; a scream so loud, so deeply penetrating that she has to remove a hand from Dylan's to put to her head…it hurts, it hurts badly. 'YES! I HAVE A REASON! I HAVE A REASON! I'M SCARED TO DEATH OF HIM! I'M SCARED, UNTIL TODAY I WASN'T BUT THEN I CAME HERE AND NOW I'M SCARED!'

The voice is loud, but not loud enough to block out_ his_ voice, the voice of that boy who, so long ago, had left her...the voice of her first true love…the voice of Fang. "I do."

**A/N: I'm not really sure where this story came from, but so far I'm enjoying writing it. I hope that you enjoyed reading it, and I hope that you'll let me know if you enjoyed reading it by writing me a quick review…Actually; I'm kind of praying you do. I love hearing from you, I absolutely love it…and, if you want a quick update, the fastest way to it is through reviews. I am very influenced through reviews, and they tell me what story I need to be working on at present. So, now that we got that talk out of the way, if you want a QUICK UPDATE you must REVIEW. Please and Thank You**


	2. Chapter 2

Her breath catches in her throat and suddenly everything fades away; the church, Dylan, the guests…everything. Except him. He stays right where he is. He stays right where he is and it is like looking at a ghost. It is exactly like looking at a ghost. She had been so sure that she had forgotten him; so sure that time had robbed her of anything but maybe the faintest of memories. She had been sure of that…but not anymore. Not when he is standing right there, right in front of her…how could she ever have even thought to have forgotten him?

There is that hair; that long, dark hair that she had spent so much time running her fingers through. It is shorter now, but it's still there. Those eyes; those dark, piercing eyes that she can see so clearly even from here; she had spent a lifetime looking into those eyes. His skin is slightly darker, tanner; his jawline and cheekbones more pronounced, but he is still that boy from six years ago. He is still that boy that she fell in love with.

Almost unconsciously she moves to take a step towards him, if only for the purpose of assuring herself that this is real; that she's not dreaming. She can't move, though, her foot has stepped out, but the rest of her body won't follow, why?

Something has ahold of her hand, the scorpion; the scorpion has ahold of her hand! She fights it, tries desperately to get it to relinquish its grip, but it holds fast. She can scarcely breathe, it's like she's wearing a corset, a corset whose strings have been pulled to the point of breakage. Her airway is getting tighter and tighter; her chest almost constricting to get a breath, but still that murderous scorpion pulls, pulls and pulls so as to surely kill her. She must get out.

"LET GO OF ME!" She screams, "LET GO OF ME!" She fights, but still the scorpion's grip only tightens…it tightens and it won't let up. Each breath is a fight and that is not in any way helped by the sobbing, wracking sobs that are quickly diminishing whatever breath she does have left. "PLEASE! PLEASE, YOU'RE KILLING ME!"

"Max…" The scorpion mutters, no, not the scorpion…Dylan. Not the scorpion, Dylan. Somehow the distinction is lost almost as quickly as it is found. She's going to faint, she's going to faint and then she's going to die; the scorpion is going to kill her. She has to get out; she has to get out now.

"Let go of her." His voice is calm, and confident; the voice of someone who expects to be obeyed. The grip does loosen, not much, but enough for her to break free; enough for her to break free and run. She does. She bolts, fast as lightning, towards the voice; towards_ his_ voice. It is him, she is sure, it is him and she is not dreaming; even her wildest dreams could not match this.

His eyes; she is close enough to see his eyes; close enough to see the gold flecks in his eyes…it is him. It really is, this isn't her imagination…this is real. "It's you…" Her voice is but a breath, but it is an amazed breath…an amazed breath because this ghost is standing in front of her. No, not a ghost... a man; this man is standing in front of her and looking at her much the same way that she must be looking at him. "It is…it is you, isn't it? Isn't it?" It has to be him, it has to be; but still the uncertainty remains. How, how did he know to come here…how did he know on today of all days to come here? And, even if he did know, why would he care? Why would he care that she was getting married? He had left her…he had left her an emotional wreck with no thought as to how she would feel…so why should he care? Why should he care in the slightest that she was marrying Dylan? Why? What right does he have?

He nods, and she wants to be mad. She should be mad. So why isn't she mad? Because she can't be, it has been six years since she last saw him and she can't be mad at him. She can't be, because happiness is exploding inside of her, too much happiness to allow for anything else…too much happiness to allow for rage. Too much happiness for her to control; her arms are around him before she can think to stop them. They are around him and they are squeezing tighter than she has ever squeezed anything in her life; tighter than the corset had squeezed her own lungs just moments before. Slowly, or maybe it just feels slowly, his arms wrap around her too, they don't squeeze anywhere near as tight, but they are there and they are comforting. Comforting, but almost familiar enough to be frightening; frightening because she does remember them so clearly, remembers this sensation so clearly.

When she looks up from his shoulder the guests have reappeared, they have reappeared and they all wear the same look of incredulous shock and pity. The entire mass of them wear the exact same look, and they are whispering too; too low for her to hear it, but she can guess the extent of it. She can guess the extent of it all too well. She doesn't want to think about it…it's suffocating and they are suffocating and she can't be in here anymore. She can't believe she walked in here in the first place. "I need to get out of here." She whispers it, not wanting to make more of a scene than there already is. He just nods and takes her arm gently, takes her arm and walks her out of the church…walks her out of the church the same way Dylan would have had she stayed.

**A/N: Wow! You guys really know how to make my day with your reviews! Please continue! I'm so glad that everybody likes this so far, and I hope that you continue to like it and to review. That being said, I want to thank **NeverJudgeABookByItsMovie**, **heelloo**, **JealousMindsThinkAlike**, **Chocogirl24**, and **UnknownWriter O.o,** for reviewing the last chapter! Your reviews were all so wonderful, and your support is amazing. And, I just want to address that there is likely to be quite a few chapters to this story, I'm not sure how many, but however many it takes to get it right. (One of you asked about that, so I thought that I would clear it up.) Now, you all did well last time, so remember, lots of REVIEWS make for QUICKER UPDATES!**


	3. Chapter 3

She shouldn't be doing this. She knows that she shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be running out of the church with the boy of her past while the boy of her future is left to crumble at the altar. She should go back in there, apologize, and beg for him to take her back. That's what she should do, beg him for forgiveness and pray that he will accept it. And he would accept it, she knows that; he would accept it and she could say 'I do' and then they could live happily-ever-after, everything would be great. But she can't; she can't go back in there, she can't and she doesn't want to. She doesn't want happily-ever-after, maybe she did, but that all changed the second that _he_ stood up. Everything changed the second that _he_ stood up.

So maybe she should go back in there. Maybe she should go back in there and make nice with Dylan. Maybe she should…but she won't, she can't and she won't. Even the thought of walking back through those doors brings back the sensation of the corset. She won't go back in there and feel the tightening of its deadly strings; she won't go back in there and fight for her breath through constricting windpipes. She won't go back in there and feel the scorpion's keen sting; she just won't do it. Those deadly strings that had all but killed her in there are gone; severed by the closing of those doors; she's not giving them a chance to come back. Now that she actually can breathe she is sucking in all the air she can get; making up for what she lost while standing on the other side of those doors. While standing on the other side of those doors with Dylan.

"Are you okay?" She looks up, surprised to find that he is still there, still holding onto her arm just as firmly as he was when they walked out. She had almost forgotten that he was even here to begin with; almost but not quite; more like it had temporarily slipped her mind. As had the fact that they have been moving; they had been on the church steps last time she had bothered to look, and now they are in the gazebo. The gazebo where she was supposed to take her wedding pictures with Dylan. She shutters and takes a seat before nodding.

"Are you sure?" His arm is no longer in hers, and she feels its absence like she would a lost limb. He leans down in front of her, taking her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into those magnificently flecked eyes. Her breath catches in her throat at the beauty and true concern in them. She is hardly aware that he asked a question. "Max, are you sure you're all right?"

Slowly she shakes her head, feeling the gravity of the action even as she does it; but she can't control it. No more than she could control the racking-terror-filled sobs at the altar. No, she's not all right. She's anything but all right. Her boyfriend of several years, whom she loves, had turned into a scorpion in her mind, right before she was getting ready to marry him; and then she had run out of the church as though it were on fire. No, she's not all right; she's nowhere close to all right. She feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and she lets them flow; she has plenty of reasons to cry today. More than plenty she has a surplus.

His arms are around her in an instant, as though they belong there. As though he never left her; as though he never left this encounter up to chance; as though he never left their relationship up to chance; she collapses into them. It is not really her choice, it's a reflex, a reflex that she had left behind six years ago…or so she thought. There is something that she has to know, though, just one thing…to start with.

"Why are you here, Fang?" Her voice is broken, but she doesn't care, she has to know. She has to know why he came back…why, after all these years had he finally decided to come back. Was it to raise these doubts in her mind? Was it to stop her from marrying somebody who truly loves her and has always been there for her? Was it to make her miserable…or what? What could possibly have brought him back after six years away?

It had made perfect sense to her; but he seems confused. He pulls her back so that he can look her in the eyes again, "I'm here for you. I came here for you." He says it as though it's the most obvious thing in the world, as though she is silly for even asking.

She doesn't feel silly, though, and she doesn't think that it can be that obvious. That his motives could have been that crystal clear; or maybe they could have and he's just leaving something out. "Is that all? Is that the only reason you came here…or did you come here to try to break my relationship with Dylan?"

He shakes his head, looking, once again, honestly confused. "Max, no; I just wanted to watch. I wouldn't have said anything…I wasn't going to say anything; but you looked so scared. You were shaking…I couldn't just stand there and watch you marry somebody that you're scared of." He lowers his voice, "Max, I was afraid for you."

"I'm not scared of Dylan." At least she hadn't been, up until a few moments ago she had been anything but scared of him…but there's no reason for Fang to know that. Fang has no right to know that. As if on cue the Golden Boy comes running out of the church, his eyes seem to widen as he catches sight of them, but he doesn't slow his pace.

"Max!" She winces and Fang looks at her, almost with amusement; dark amusement, but amusement nonetheless.

"You sure about that?"

**A/N: Sorry about the wait; this chapter was very hard to write and I really have no idea why. I hope that you guys liked it but if you didn't I understand because even I'm not sure how I feel about it. Please review and let me know what you thought…you've all been doing great with the reviews so far so please keep them coming! I really, really need the support to keep this going. School is starting soon so I probably won't be able to update as much as I would like, so if you want them fast I need lots of reviews. I want to thank **UnknownWriter O.o**, **HeAtStRoKe**, **JealousMindsThinkAlike**, and **whocares1313** for reviewing last chapter. So, EVERYBODY remember if you want QUICK UPDATES you must REVIEW.**


	4. Chapter 4

She had seen a movie once where a woman had worked as a laundress, it had been an older movie and when she did her laundry she did it in a huge barrel using a stick to push around the clothes. Her stomach feels like that right now. Like it is being wrung and pulled in a dozen different directions; just as the clothes had been in the movie. Automatically she puts a hand there to settle it, but it doesn't do anything; it can't do anything…Not when Dylan is as close as he is now, not when she can see the confusion and pain in his eyes; not when she can see the glint of madness. She shivers and Fang stands up; she wants to pull him back down, but she can't. She is powerless to do anything but watch with wide eyes as he stands up; as Dylan moves closer and closer still before finally reaching them.

"Max?" He moves towards her, bypassing Fang completely, almost as though he doesn't see him; and maybe he doesn't. He had saw him in the church and he had certainly saw him sitting with her, but maybe that's all he had needed to see. Maybe he was only interested in seeing what he was up against before staging an attack…maybe, but she has her doubts; she definitely has her doubts.

"Max, are you okay? What happened back there?" He is in front of her now, much the same way Fang was not five minutes before; it is almost eerie in its likeness. He makes a move to reach for her hands, but she pulls them away quickly already feeling the ghost of the scorpion. His eyes cloud over, but still he allows his hands to fall to his sides with little-to-no reluctance. His voice lowers, letting her know that he is aware of Fang's presence even if only distantly; he is aware of it, but whether or not he cares is a completely different question. "What is wrong with you?"

She shakes her head feeling her throat close up before her lips have even had time to open, "I…I'm fine." She swallows back the lump in her throat and then tries again; the result is much the same. "I…I'm fine, Dylan. I just…I just need a minute…okay?" She needs a minute? More like an eternity…an eternity far, far away.

His eyes flash, answering her question without so much as opening his mouth; no, it's not okay. Anything less than walking back into the church and concluding this ceremony is far from okay. His eyes flash to Fang, once, briefly; it is a dangerous look, and it is not lost on Fang who returns it easily with a calm one before stepping closer to her. It is a small movement, not altogether threatening, but by the way Dylan's eyes follow it you would think it was a serpent preparing to pounce. His eyes flash once more, knowingly this time before looking back to her. "You need a minute with him…is that what you mean?"

She opens her mouth to answer, to deny it vehemently, but he cuts her off, "I thought you were done with him." His voice is growing steadily louder and she resists the urge to flinch; she is not afraid of him…at least she doesn't think she is. He turns to Fang so sharply that she does wince; there is something in that turn, something menacing; it's frightening, but Fang holds his ground not so much as blinking as a glare as cold as ice is thrown at him. "You left her, Man! You don't get to come back six years later and crash her wedding! YOU DON'T HAVE A SAY IN THIS ANYMORE! YOU DON'T GET TO HAVE A SAY IN HER LIFE ANYMORE!"

He just smiles; an easy, confident smile, "Don't you think that's up to her to decide, Dylan? Don't you think that she should get to have a say in who's in her life?" He smiles again before continuing nonchalantly, "It sounded to me like just about…oh, five minutes ago, she said that she wants a minute without YOU…but that's just my interpretation of 'I need a minute'." He shrugs, "I guess I could have been wrong."

He lunges at Fang and her stomach feels dangerously close to being completely wrung-out; his fist is raised and his eyes wild once again. Fang dodges it easily before throwing one of his own; it hits Dylan in the eye and she can already see the black bruise that will be there tomorrow. She feels sick and she wants them to stop but she can't get up; she can't do anything. Like a bad horror movie her eyes are glued to the screen, or, in this case, the men. After watching Fang barely dodge a punch to the ribs and Dylan come inches away from breaking his nose she stands; unable to take it anymore.

"STOP IT!" She screams, trying to wedge herself between the two of them before either can throw another punch, "JUST STOP IT!" She catches a glimpse of the fist out of the corner of her eye, but by the time it registers it has already made its mark on her cheek. She closes her eyes, feeling tears leaking out through the lids; she doesn't care. She blinks once before putting a hand to her cheek and turning to Dylan who is looking at his hand as though he can't believe it is attached to him. Fang, on the other side looks grim.

"Max…" He tries, still looking with shock at his hand. His voice is that of a child's who has just found out the teacher was watching him push down his classmate; it commands pity, nothing else. Unlike with a child, though, she feels nothing; absolutely nothing but disgust; her cheek is burning. "Max…I'm sorry, I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't…I didn't…" He gives up, looking defeated.

"Get away from me." She almost doesn't recognize her voice it is so quiet…scarily quiet. He tries to protest, tries to apologize again; but she doesn't let him open his mouth…she won't. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, DYLAN!" She is crying now, but she doesn't let that stop her; she has to do this, she's not sure why, but she has to. "GET AWAY AND STAY AWAY, OKAY?"

He nods roughly; still looking confused, but backs away. Shaking his head he walks back into the church; she sighs, waiting till he is out of sight to wipe the still-flowing tears…Fang hesitates before pulling her to him, as though unsure of whether or not she would want him to. She feels some of the tension in her stomach melt away as she rests her head on his shoulder; allows herself to sink into the comfort that is him.

"I can't believe he did that…" She whispers, scarcely aware of her own words, "I just…I just can't believe it." She feels more tears prick at the corners of her eyes and she lets them flow without a thought, "He's never hit me before."

"Are you sure?" His voice is firm and it causes her to pull away; she has to see his eyes. She has to see if he is being serious; if he is asking what she thinks he is. They have an angry quality to them, but also pain; lots of pain; he is serious.

She shakes her head, "Fang…no," She shakes her head again and it like building blocks are building a tower of resistance in her stomach. "No…Dylan would never do that…Fang, no." _But he just did_. It goes unspoken between them, but by the look in his eyes she knows that he is seconds from saying it. "He's never…he's never done it on purpose." She sighs, knowing how the words must sound, but they are the truth; he's only ever hit her by accident or in training.

His eyes flash, just once and he subdues it, but not before she catches sight of it. "So he has done it before? He's hit you before?" Her eyes must give her away because he shakes his once his eyes blazing now. "I'll kill him."

She shakes her head tears rolling back down her face now, "Fang," She grabs his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, "Fang, only in practice. He's only ever hit me in practice." But is that true? She can't remember…she wants it to be true…but it doesn't feel exactly right.

"Max, we practiced a million times and I never once hit you…not like that." His hand is gentle on her already bruising cheek and she leans into it without any thought on her part. "Why would you let him do something like that? Why would you stay with him if he treated you like that?" The anger in his words is not at all lost on her.

"BECAUSE YOU LEFT ME, FANG, YOU LEFT ME, AND HE STAYED! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?" She doesn't want to scream, she doesn't want to cry, but she can't help it. She has no control over what comes out of her mouth right now; no control over her emotions at all. She takes a breath, forcing herself to be calmer; her voice to lower. "You left me, what was I supposed to do? You left and he stayed…That's all there is." She sighs, "Look, I don't want to talk about this right now…so, please, can we just…maybe talk about something normal…Do something normal? Get out of here?"

He nods, his eyes softening slightly, "Yeah," He shakes his head, "Yeah, I'm sorry. Want to go get coffee or something?"

"Or something," She nods, "I need to get out of this dress." She gives a half-laugh, it sounds almost shrill, "There's a couple thousand down the drain."

He nods, unsmiling, "I can take you by your place, get a change of clothes and then we could go do something…talk." His tone is guarded but she knows all too well what he wants to talk about; but at this point she doesn't care, she just nods and he wraps an arm around her. "Let's go."

**A/N: So, what do you think? I'm pretty happy with this chapter, really; I feel much better about it than I did last chapter so that's great. You've all been doing amazing with reviews and remember to keep it up! I can't continue without reviews! On that note, thanks a ton to **Live In Today**, **Chocogirl24**, **whocares1313**, **Annemarie787**, and **JealousMindsThinkAlike** for reviewing last chapter! You guys are great! So, EVERYBODY, don't forget the more REVIEWS I get the QUICKER the UPDATES.**


	5. Chapter 5

Her hands are shaking enough that she drops the key twice before finally securing it in the keyhole and once it is there she can hardly make herself turn it. She doesn't want to turn it; she doesn't want to go in there; she doesn't want to see the apartment that she and Dylan have shared for the past year. She doesn't want to see it, but she has to; if only to get her clothes she has to. As if sensing her reluctance his arm tightens around her before steadying her hand around the key. She manages a weak smile, it is an attempt at reassurance but she doesn't have it in her to really make it count. She can already tell; he's not buying it.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." His voice is gentle but matter-of-fact; already she is shaking her head. She has to do this; she has to get out of this dress. She doesn't want to be in it anymore; she can't be in it. She was supposed to get married to Dylan in this dress…he had helped pick it out and his mark is all over it; he had hit her in this dress. He had hit her and he had done it in front of Fang and she can't wear it; she can't wear it. She can't even look at it.

She feels herself beginning to hyperventilate; breath is a gasp and she wrenches herself away from him so she can breathe. So that she can try to breathe. He steps back, giving her space for which she is grateful. This has never happened to her before, but she does know what to do; just keep breathing, one hulking gasp after another. He stands back, watching with a quiet-type of intensity but not once interfering; not until her breathing has reached its normal level. Her chest still hurts slightly, but she can breathe and the pain is receding; she forces herself to move back to the door. She nods, more to herself than to him, "I do have to do this, Fang. I don't…" She takes a breath, "I don't want to wear this. Not for a minute, not for an hour; I can't wear it." Her voice lowers as though on its own accord, "It's_ him_, everything about it is_ him_."

She can tell he doesn't like it, but he nods anyway and that's enough. His hand goes to her back, it is not pushy, just comforting; she won't admit it but she's happy it's there. She's happy it's there because it's the only thing keeping her from falling; at least that's what it feels like. She closes her eyes and takes a breath…she can do this; turns the key.

Involuntarily she sucks in a breath; it's like walking into a ghost town and it hits her square in the gut. There, at the table, Dylan's mug still half-full of coffee; her own drying in the strainer by the sink. She had put that there just this morning; just this morning she had sat with him, at this table, and talked about the wedding and their honeymoon and what type of house they wanted to live in. All that had happened just hours ago; just hours ago she had all but forgotten about the dark-eyed boy beside her; just hours ago she had been a part of a happy couple…Or had she?

Had she really been a part of a happy couple? Had she truly been happy with Dylan? Had she truly loved him? She thinks that she had; she had been happy with him, and she had loved him. On some level she had loved him and on some level that was never going to go away…but why had she loved him? He had beat her…so why had she loved him?

_Because he told you that you did. He told you and everybody else told you. He told you that you loved him and he told you that he loved you, too. You looked past everything else because he told you to. _She feels sick. She can't remember all the beatings; she's trying but it's like there is a brick wall surrounding the memories. She knows they happened; but she can't quite reach them. It is infuriating and she shakes her head immediately; she is not here to reminisce, she is here to change her clothes and get out. Just change her clothes and get out.

"Go ahead and take a seat," She gestures at the array of chairs surrounding the table; chairs that Dylan had picked out. A wave of bile rises in her throat but she swallows it back, "I'll probably be a couple of minutes." He waves her off and takes a seat easily; it's the same seat Dylan had taken this morning. The corners of her eyes sting and she gives her head a little shake before heading down the hall to the only bedroom in the house. The bedroom that she had shared with Dylan; she shakes her head, the last thing she needs to do is get lost in memories.

Her dress comes off a lot faster than it got on; probably because she no longer cares about it getting ripped or trampled on or any of the like. She throws on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and it about to leave the room before she thinks better of it. Dylan's sport's bag is under the bed; she pulls it out and dumps half of her closet in it. She doesn't pay attention to what she throws in, just enough to make sure she has the essentials and enough to get her through a few days; she does not want to come back here. She doesn't want to and she can't, any other time Dylan will be here, and she won't deal with him. She can't. She takes one last glance around the room to make sure that she has everything she will need; she does.

He eyes her bag but doesn't say anything; she has a feeling that he's not all that surprised. Certainly not as surprised as she is; the weight of it is remarkable…it's not necessarily heavy, but still it weighs a ton. Weighs a ton because she knows that with it there is no turning back; this is the end. If she takes this bag and walks out of here right now it's forever…there's no coming back. He gives her a moment, as if sensing her silent battle, before speaking. "You ready to go?"

She nods, smiling, a small smile, but an honest one, "Yeah." She looks him in the eyes once before taking his outstretched hand, "Yeah, I'm ready." And she is.

**A/N: Okay, I must say, I'm pleased with how this chapter turned out. I had expected it to be longer but this did feel like the right place to end it so I hope you all understand. I want to give a ton of thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, **whocares1313**, **Chocogirl24**, **ThatFreakInThePandaHat**, and **JealousMindsThinkAlike**- you guys are all so amazing and supportive! I really can't thank you enough! Keep it up! So, of course, everybody should know this by now… but just in case you don't. You HAVE TO REVIEW if you want QUICK UPDATES especially with school starting soon I won't have much time to write and reviews will influence what I do concentrate on. So, remember, EVERYBODY REVIEW! **


	6. Chapter 6

Her apartment with Dylan had been her home for over a year and she had been content with that. It had felt like home there; or at least that's what she had thought at the time. In hindsight, though, sitting across from Fang at this unfamiliar dinner/card table she is able to realize just how wrong she had been. At the apartment she had been living in fear, maybe she hadn't always been aware of it and maybe she hadn't always had reason for it, but it had been there. For whatever reason she had always felt ill at-ease in the apartment, like something dark was lurking in the corner; at the time she hadn't thought about it, but she had. She had been afraid in that apartment, she had chosen it, and still she had been afraid.

Now, though, sitting across from Fang in this unfamiliar place that he claims as his own, she feels none of that. None of the fear, none of the weariness that had plagued her in her old 'home' has followed her here. If anything this strange house, which she has spent maybe fifteen minutes in, already feels more like a home to her than the other place ever had; than the other place ever could. The other place had been empty of history; of her history. Sitting here, with Fang now…he is her history; there's hardly a moment of her history that's been worthwhile without him.

Her hand doesn't shake as he hands her the coffee, not even a slight tremor; she has to give a small smile at that. It's a triumph in and of itself and she is grateful that he lets her have that moment before asking his questions; before beginning the interrogation. He takes a sip of his own coffee before reaching over to grab her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze which she returns without thinking. Already she has stepped back into this formula that was crafted for her so long ago; she has stepped back and she has stepped back with ease.

"When did it start?" His voice is soft, gentle; but also concerned, definitely concerned. His eyes are blazing holes into hers but she can't look away; she can't make herself look away, they command her attention. They are captivating. She just can't bring herself to answer…really she doesn't know the answer. When did the abuse start? When did she start labeling it as abuse rather than just simply training? When did it start happening outside of training? She doesn't know; she really does not know.

As if sensing that he squeezes her hand again before nodding; it is one of the most reassuring things that she has felt in a long time and she smiles. It doesn't last very long but it is there all the same, making her feel lighter for a few privileged seconds. Those seconds are golden and he allows her a good deal of them before giving her hand another squeeze, "Max, when did he start hitting you…that you remember?"

She shrugs, only slightly aware that it's not an acceptable answer, and caring even less. She needs to think…she shouldn't need to think, she should know this, but she doesn't. It had long ago become a part of her life and she had grown to accept it; as terrible as that is, it's also true. She had come to expect and maybe even accept it in her life, almost to the point of not noticing or noting anything out of the ordinary when it did happen. It hadn't happened all that often, at least as far as she can really discern, but when it had it had not been pleasant; not at all.

She takes a breath, one particular time coming to mind, "I don't know for sure; we trained…a lot, for a long time and obviously we each got roughed up when we were training." She pauses, trying to consider what to say next…she knows what she wants to say; she just doesn't know how to say it so that he understands it. "I think…I think that we trained so often that somewhere along the line it morphed into everyday…you know?" He nods a small movement that says that he does not know at all, but please continue, "Like, we wouldn't officially be practicing but we would be practicing. Like…" She struggles, "Like, maybe, I would say something that he might not like…you know, stuff like that…and then he would start 'practicing'." She sighs, "I'd probably use the word 'hitting', but he preferred 'practicing'."

His hand around hers has tightened and he has a grim-sort-of look on his face as he nods, as though he already expected something along those lines. "How often did he 'practice'?" She can tell, by the emphasis he puts on the word that he would just as soon use her own, but is keeping up with the charade for her sake.

She shakes her head, but she knows the answer to this question. She knows it but she can't bring herself to say it, can't force her mouth to open and the words to spill out…she just can't. So instead she settles, she settles for the best answer that she can come up with at the moment, "A lot." She takes a breath before repeating, "A whole lot." Tears are burning down her cheeks now and she flinches as they drag down the already hot area of her bruise; they hit it like liquid fire. His hand wipes them away and she gasps, not from pain but from relief. It should hurt, but it doesn't, not at all, it's as though his hand melts into her skin; becomes one with hers.

"Why…" He begins and then stops, softening his voice, "Why would you let him do that? I mean…after a while why didn't you just tell him it was over? That's the part that bothers me, Max; that you just let him keep using you as a punching-bag."

Something inside of her breaks and she doesn't know whether to be out-of-her-mind mad or just completely touched by the concern in not only his voice but his eyes. His eyes seem almost scared, like he definitely does not understand how the girl that he had grown up with could age into this. She has to echo the sentiment…she doesn't know why she let it go on. She wishes that she did, but she doesn't. Every time that she gets close to an answer it's like a brick wall is built up and it's gone. That's all there is. "I don't want to talk about me anymore. I want to hear about you…about what you did for six years…I just want to talk about something normal, please." She can feel the tears once again pricking at the corners of her eyes but she wants this; she wants a normal conversation so badly…she wants to know about him so badly…she just ignores the tears; forces herself to put on a smile.

**A/N: I'm not really sure about this chapter, I feel okay about it, but not great, you know? I just really wanted to post because I'm not sure how often I'll be able to here soon, and I've been killing myself trying to write this…so PLEASE GIVE YOUR OPINION. You've all been doing really well so far, so keep it up! Thanks a freaking ton to **whocares1313**, **LiveInToday**, **UnknownWriterO.o, ThatFreakInThePandaHat**, and **JealousMindsThinkAlike** for reviewing last chapter! You're all amazing! Now, I'm assuming you all know the drill by now, but just in case you don't; YOU MUST REVIEW if you want a QUICK UPDATE! The MORE REVIEWS I get the more I WRITE; so EVERYBODY please REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he does so, but when he looks back up he is smiling as well, "What I did for six years…" He muses and she nearly laughs he looks so ridiculous, but she is so grateful because it lightens whatever tension was left. He actually laughs with her and the sound is so beautiful, maybe one of the best things that she has heard since he left…at least in her mind set now it is; in her mind set now it is beautiful, like a song.

"Okay…" She fights to get the word out through her laughs; she kind of doesn't want to get the word out…just wants to keep laughing; just for a little while to keep laughing. "Okay, so maybe I'll narrow this down a bit." Start at the beginning and work her way down, "Why did you leave?"

He raises a hand to protest but she cuts him off, "Not what that letter says; I know what the letter says almost by heart." She laughs, but even to her it sounds forced; she doesn't want to bring the tension back, doesn't want to break the spell that has been put over her; but she must. She has to know this…she really has to know this; she has spent too many of her teen years agonizing over this and she's not going to blow her chance now.

"Why did you leave...the truth; I don't believe that letter…not completely at least." She wants to believe it; to an extent she wants to believe it, but she can't; not completely at least. Not when he's sitting across from her now; not when she can see the warmth shining through his eyes and feel his glare on her bruised cheek. She can't believe that he would just leave her on a whim; she just can't.

He sighs again, but this time it is in earnest, "Max, everything I said in that letter was true. Every word of that letter was true."

She nods, "I believe that…I believe that it was true and that you believed that it was true when you wrote it; I just…I just have difficulty believing that Dylan could really get that far into your head? Surely there was more to it than just what you said…we were your family…your only family; you couldn't…" She shakes her head feeling tears pricking at her eyes, but they are more agitated tears than anything else; she takes a breath, "You wouldn't have left us without a good reason. Not just a hunch."

He nods, "You're right…you guys were my family…you still are. I cared about all of you; loved all of you…and that's why I left. I left for you guys, and I was telling the truth in that letter. You affect me; I think differently when I'm around you and that's dangerous for everyone; at least it was. I had to go so that we could focus; each of us could focus, on what we needed to focus on." He pauses; a long, drawn out pause that could almost be considered pregnant, "I also wanted to give you the opportunity of being with Dylan…I didn't want you to waste somebody who was perfect for you; somebody who potentially could make you really happy. I only ever wanted for you to be happy."

Another nod, she can believe that; she had expected that, it hadn't exactly worked, but she had expected it all the same. "I was happy…for a while I was really happy…you know," A casual wave of the hand, "After I got over the whole my-heart-has-just-been-torn-out-and-eaten thing…after that I was actually pretty happy." She leaves the part about 'practice' out, but she knows that he feels it just the same from the way that he flinches.

"Max, you have to understand that I never meant to hurt you…and trust me everything that you felt over that letter I felt just as intensely if not more so…But I had to do it; I had to do it for us, for you…for the entire flock..." In a quieter voice, "The world."

"It was a noble shot," Her voice sounds like a whisper on the wind, maybe slightly louder but with that same wisp-like quality, "It worked as far as the world was concerned, and the flock…just not so much on the other fronts." She smiles; a small, sad smile; but she has to change the subject. She's gotten her answer, she's done herself proud, and she is relatively happy with what she has learned. She feels something inside of her clamp together; like maybe slowly this is all starting to make sense. Maybe her heart is piecing back those parts that she had all-but-forgotten about; those pieces that she had let fly to the wind.

"The flock missed you, you know…I'd never seen all of them cry." She shakes her head, her eyebrows rising unconsciously, "It was crazy."

He smiles but it is a faraway-type of smile, his heart isn't quite in it, and she can tell his mind is wandering; his eyes are almost swimming with thoughts and his voice is choked when it comes out. "Yeah," He nods, "Yeah, I missed them, too. God, I missed all of you…you have no idea." His head shakes as though he can't quite believe what he is saying and she feels a lump forming in her own throat. "You have no idea how good it was to see all of them today." He laughs, "They were a sight for sore eyes, I can tell you that much."

She nods, thinking about this. What would it be like to be separated from the flock for six years? All that relief and pain and whatnot that she had felt upon seeing Fang…all of that taken to the fourth power…to the fifth if she counted herself; yeah, she can definitely see how that might be hard.

"Yeah, I imagine so…did you actually talk to any of them? They would have loved that…if they had known you were there before…" She shrugs, "Well, you know…Before you stood up and made yourself known and I ran screaming off the altar like a maniac."

He smiles but shakes his head, "No, I didn't. I didn't really want to make a scene or anything…I just wanted to be there and then head out without causing too big of a stir…it was your day, after all."

"How did you know when my wedding was?" It hadn't really been posted in the paper, at least not one that he would have read; heck, it was her local paper and she didn't even read it.

"The blog." He says it as though it's the most obvious thing in the world and she has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it; she's pretty sure that he meant her to. "Somebody posted it on the blog under urgent and…well, they were right." He lowers his voice, "I think it might have been Iggy."

She raises an eyebrow, "Why would you think that? Iggy hardly knows how to blog."

At least he hadn't last time she had checked. As far as she knew none of the flock knew how to blog, or at least showed any interest in it. Apparently she is slipping.

"He gets on it every now and then…I can just tell by the way he talks and by some of his jokes, classic-Iggy stuff, you know?"

She nods, because she does know…when you spend enough time with people you start to pick up on the way they talk; about little quirks that only they possess. Like Iggy's perverseness and love of dynamite. They talk for a little bit longer about the flock, but it is getting late, they had spent much more time on this than either of them had anticipated…it had felt like mere seconds.

In the end there is no question of where she will sleep.

**A/N: Oh, wow! You guys are all so amazing and really know how to make my day with your reviews! EVERYBODY KEEP IT UP! I actually feel really good about this chapter and how it turned out and I hope you guys agree! A freaking ton of thanks go out to **Beauty'sInTheEye**, **FlockFan61147**, **maximumridefan111**, **EmilyNicole1**, **JealousMindsThinkAlike**, **whocares1313**, **berrycrispii**,** Live In Today, **and **123-Cat-Cat-321** for reviewing the last chapter you are all amazing beyond belief! PLEASE KEEP IT UP! Now, really, I assume you all know this, but can never be too careful; YOU HAVE TO REVIEW if you want QUICK UPDATES! Especially when I have so many other projects going on…so remember REVIEW! **


	8. Chapter 8

His arm is lying over her waist when she wakes up and she has to smile. It is a good sensation, a familiar sensation, a sensation like being home. She sighs, imagining her own 'home' right about now. Dylan is probably waking up, alone, going off to get his coffee. He'll probably make less this morning, since it's only for him, and then he'll sit at that big table he picked out and read the newspaper by himself. Somewhere along the line he'll probably read something that he doesn't like, but today no one will be around for him to 'practice' with. Tonight nobody will go to sleep with fresh bruises; tonight she won't go to sleep with fresh bruises. She should check her own bruise, it doesn't hurt as much today, but it's definitely still there; she can feel the heat radiating off of it without even touching her cheek. She needs to check her phone, too; as much as she doesn't want to…her mom will be freaking out right about now. That is, if she hasn't already.

She groans; she doesn't want to deal with reality, her mom or otherwise; she just wants to lay here with Fang's arm around her, lay here and pretend that this is all there is to it. That the last six years never happened; that Dylan never happened, but she can't. It's not an option and she can't; she just can't. It's cruel of her to even think about it; cruel to herself.

Which is why she forces herself to move his arm, gently, so as not to wake him; she feels its absence like a lost limb. Her skin is still warm where his made contact, but it is slowly sinking away; soon it won't be there at all. Another sigh and she is out of the bed, her phone in her hand, and heading for the bathroom; the mirror is bigger there and he might not be able to hear her. She hopes he won't be able to hear her.

The door shuts quietly behind her and she gives herself a moment to prepare…he has almost never hit her in the face before. The arm, sure; a leg, of course; the face, not so much; actually never. He had never hit her in the face before; she's never had to face it head on and so she sucks in a breath and without another moment's thought turns to the mirror; and gasps. Her cheek is so blue it is nearly black; she can do nothing to help the tears that flood down her cheeks; can't help the breath that she sucks in as they hit the black area that was once tan flesh.

A lump is rising in her throat and she forces it back; Fang doesn't need to hear this; he doesn't need to wake up and hear this…she needs this moment…just one moment by herself. Just needs this one moment for herself before facing the rest of the world. One moment to fall apart before facing the rest of the world; she sinks to the ground. Her shoulders wracking and her hands shaking, she fights to keep her phone in her hands; to hit the right buttons to call her mom. She doesn't bother looking at her missed calls and messages; she wouldn't be able to see them, anyway; not through the tears. If not for speed dial she wouldn't be able to even reach her mother…even with speed dial she can hardly see to call her mom.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime the phone stops breathing and she breathes a sigh of relief as her mom picks up on the other end. Her voice makes her feel lighter; her shoulders don't stop shaking, but they aren't the wracking-sobbing shakes that they were just moments ago. The tremors running through her hands are much less violent now and she allows her grip on the phone to slacken slightly; not a lot, but slightly.

"Max?" Her voice concerned, but with a slight edge of anger creeping in, "Max, where are you?"

She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice from coming out choked; if she tells her that she's at Fang's she'll freak out, but then again what else is there to tell her? There's nothing; just the truth.

"I'm somewhere safe." She replies, feeling a wave of honesty overcome her at the statement. She is safe here; others might not understand that, but she is. With Fang she is safe; she feels safe; she hasn't felt safe in a while.

Her voice must give her away because on the other end there is a sharp intake of breath before a resigned sigh, "You're with _him_, aren't you?" She makes no move to deny it, "Max, that boy has broken your heart…no, shattered it, a million times over. Would you care to explain exactly why you left Dylan, who, by the way is a wreck; just to go back to _him_? I thought you got over him years ago, Max."

If not for the genuine confusion in her mother's voice she might actually be mad; but she can't bring herself to be…there are much more important matters at hand here. Much more important, besides, her mom wouldn't understand/ couldn't understand about her relationship with Fang. She barely understands it herself.

She does have to talk to her, though, has to tell her; she might be the only one who will understand and she can't keep it bottled up anymore. She has to tell someone; she has to tell someone or she might explode. She has to get it out.

"Mom, I'm pregnant." There is silence on the other end and instantly she wants to retract it. She shouldn't have told…she should have waited…told someone else…told in person…anything would have been better than this. Anything would have been better than this God-awful silence. But she feels so much lighter…like weights have been lifted off of her shoulders…finally someone knows…someone that she cares about knows. She's not alone with it anymore.

"Max, are you sure?" Her voice is more level now but she can hear some excitement creeping in.

She nods, but then remembers that she's on the phone, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I haven't been to a doctor…but it's been around two months since I had a period…and I had some morning sickness for a while…so, yeah, I'm pretty sure."

A voice, suddenly from the other side of the door, _his_ voice, and she feels a wave of dread or something like it run through her. "You're pregnant?" It is an incredulous voice.

"Mom, I have to go." She hangs up the phone without waiting for an answer and opens the door with shaking hands. There is a knot in her stomach, and she takes another breath; prepares herself to do this.

"Yes," Her voice coming out more choked than she would like, "Yes, I think I am."

**A/N: Oh, wow, you guys are really amazing with your reviews! You continue still to make my day! I feel good about this chapter even though I agonized over this decision…what do you think? Did you like that little twist or not? Did you expect it? PLEASE REVIEW! I don't know how often I'm going to be updating from here on out because school starts back up tomorrow. I will try to update at least once or twice a week if not more, but it depends solely on reviews. If I don't get them, I can't write! So don't hold back, if you like the story drop your opinion! Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I can't name all of you but you all really are amazing. KEEP IT UP, PLEASE. So, EVERYBODY, remember, YOU HAVE TO REVIEW if you want QUICK UPDATES.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Did he know?" His voice is quiet, almost scarily so; the voice of someone who already knows the answer to their question; the voice of someone who doesn't like it. She can't bring herself to say the words; saying them would make it real…saying them would make it too hard to deal with…Saying them is impossible, so instead she nods. Tears run down her cheeks and burn and fall to the floor, and still she nods as he shakes his head. She nods even as he curses and moves to bang his fist into the wall; nods even as he retracts it, steps away and takes a breath. Nods right up until he takes her in his arms; it is then that she sucks in a breath. Just one breath before the sobs start; before the wracking starts; before she loses all control; just one breath to prepare herself for that. To prepare herself for what comes next; she doesn't prepare for long. She doesn't have the chance to prepare for long. She surrenders whatever fragile amount of control she had left; she falls to pieces in his arms.

He doesn't say anything, just grimly tightens his arms around her; rubs between her wings until the wracking lightens…until it disappears completely. Until she almost feels like herself again; almost, but not quite. She can't shake off his question; can't just dismiss it with a simple nod of her head. She can't, because it is so much more important than that. It is much more important than that. She needs to think…needs to make sense of this; needs to talk. Needs to talk to someone who might help her make sense of this…to the only person who can help her make sense of this…to her right-hand man; she needs to talk to Fang.

It's almost as though he senses her silent urgings, for all she knows he has. Before the thought has even had time to fully process itself he has an arm wrapped around her and is leading her towards a small, leather couch that she hadn't noticed earlier…that she doesn't really notice now.

She closes her eyes and takes a breath before allowing them to flutter open, "He knew that I might be…that there was a possibility."

His arm tenses around her but he nods and gradually it begins to relax; his eyes are clouded as they seek out hers…almost accusingly so. She doesn't blame him…she can't. She can't because she feels that same accusation at herself…for ever being with Dylan…for letting him talk her into almost marrying him. For loving him even when he beat her…for still loving him; no matter how deeply buried that love is. She blames herself for all of that…so she will not blame him for the accusation clouding his eyes…not when the same accusation is clouding her head.

"He beat you after he knew you were pregnant?" His voice is incredulous but that does nothing to mask the anger seething through…she flinches.

"That I might be…he only ever knew that I might be…That's all I really know for sure now." It is a weak excuse and she knows it. She is powerless to do anything about it; just let it spill out and create its own mess. It is the truth; at least it is the truth.

"Max... how sure are you?" He wants to say more, she can tell that he wants to say much more. He doesn't.

"I'm pretty sure…I've taken a few tests…the majority of which were positive…I haven't been to a doctor yet…but I'm pretty sure." She shakes her head, "I'm actually very sure if I'm going by the tests and the facts alone."

He is silent and for a moment she thinks that maybe it will drop at that. That maybe they can just go back to the way things were last night…no such luck. "Were you going to tell me?"

She nods this one she knows the answer to. There is doubt in his voice and normally that would throw her off…make her hesitate to think…but it doesn't this time. This time she knows without a doubt what her answer is…knows because she spent the night dreaming about it.

"Yes." Another nod, "Yes I was…I was going to tell you, but I needed to talk to my mom first…I didn't want to tell you until I was positive…I didn't really want to think about it myself until I was positive." She makes sure that she catches his dark eyes before continuing; he has to be looking her in the eyes for this to work, "I was going to tell you, Fang…I just needed some time."

He nods, and she feels something inside of her lighten at the movement. "What are we going to do now?"

We. They will do this together. The word is not in the slightest lost on her; the gravity of the word is not in the slightest lost on her; and she smiles. Through her tears she smiles. She is not alone anymore; she will not have to go through this alone…her right-hand man will be there. Fang will be there, and for right now that is all that really matters. Fang is there and she is not alone. She won't be alone with this…and so she isn't afraid to tell the truth.

"I don't know, Fang…I don't know."

**A/N: And I don't know either but I do have some ideas which I must ask you to please go to my profile page and vote on in my pole. Better hurry, though because I want to start writing next chapter immediately while I still have the weekend. Once again, you all are being super-amazing with your reviews and I can't thank you all enough for them! So, just in case anyone doesn't know the run-down by now, which, by the way I sincerely doubt they don't…here it is. YOU MUST REVIEW if you want QUICK UPDATES YOU HAVE TO REVIEW FOR THEM…Don't be shy, I swear I don't bite! **


	10. Chapter 10

Cold sweat has broken out on her forehead, is making its way down her face in a steady progression; she doesn't bother wiping it. She couldn't wipe it even if she wanted to; even if she could tell it apart from the tears trickling a stream down her cheeks. One of her hands is gripping Fang's tight enough to probably cut off circulation and the other one is latched with a death grip to the table that she is sitting on. She does not want to be here. She has to be here, and she knows that she has to be here, but nowhere inside of her does she want to be here. Everything inside of her is devoted to screaming at her to run…to get the hell out of here before the White Coat can stick that dastardly needle in her. To run out of there as though her life depended on it; if not for his hand she would. If not for his hand, his thumb now tracing circles on hers, she would've been out of here before she even so much caught whiff of that awful-sterile smell. That awful-sterile-hospital smell; it pervades the air here, leaving no area untouched by its horrendousness. His hand is in hers, though, and she can't bolt… no matter how much she might like to she can't. She has to know this, and to know this she has to let him sink his needle into her. She has to.

"Is she all right?" The doctor is concerned; he's probably never had a patient react like this for a simple blood test before. He is concerned but there is also weariness soaking into his voice, like maybe this is the end of his shift and he's already dreaming of that delicious supper that his wife has been working on all afternoon. He's probably mentally kicking himself in the head for agreeing to take the appointment for these two young people…probably been kicking himself since he walked in to see her and found her basically shaking in her converse.

The tone in his voice is not lost on Fang whose hand tightens around hers but does not stop that incessant tracing, "She's fine." His voice is nearly a snap and she flinches. They both know that it's not true; the doctor knows it to. She is not fine; she can't be fine. When you grow up in a world with mad scientists and have bird DNA inside of you it is impossible to see somebody wearing a white coat and carrying a needle without freaking out. It just is. Even Fang's eyes have been flashing since they walked in here and she knows that he wants to be here about as much as she does. But he came here anyway, for her he came here and for her he is sitting still and minding his matters, which is why she forces herself to swallow back her fear. Make herself stop crying long enough to answer the doctor's questions. She can't help the yelp that escapes her as he brings the needle up to her arm, though. It is involuntarily and she is shaking hard enough that the doctor has to hold her arm down so that he can hit the vein properly.

The needle burns as though it's on fire and fresh tears crawl down her already wet cheeks. She knows that it is really not that painful, knows that it is already almost full, but that does nothing to ease her mind and looking over she sees that Fang's gaze is also fixed on the filling vial. She blinks back her tears and lets out a breath as slowly the needle makes its venture out of her arm. It takes about two seconds but it feels like a lifetime. With an assurance that he will be back shortly the doctor leaves the room as silently as he entered this time a tiny vial of blood clutched in his right hand; she feels sick.

"I hate that." Tears flood down her cheeks in waves now and her shoulders are rising and falling with a rapidity that is almost frightening, "I…I can't even…I can't even look at a freaking needle…a freaking white coat…after all these years I still can't."

He gets up from his perch beside her, gets up and moves to wrap his arms around her; she sinks into him before he's even close enough to really sink into. His face is lying in his hair and hers in his shoulder, his voice in her ear is rough and she knows that it has bothered him just as much to watch her like this…to watch her so close to something they both despise.

"I know, Sweetheart, I can't either…I really can't…" His words are a murmur, "I hate seeing you like that…I hate seeing you in that much pain but you know that we had to do this, don't you?"

Yes, she knows that they had to do this…she knows that it was necessary to do this…but that doesn't make it any less horrible…doesn't make it any less horrible at all. She is just nodding her head when the doctor walks back in…making good time she notices even as her body comes to a tense.

"I've got good news." He smiles, and she feels something inside of her lift at it; feels Fang's arms tighten around her at the sound of it. "You're not pregnant."

**A/N: So, I really feel like last chapter wasn't up to standard and that is the only reason why I am posting so quickly with so few reviews. This chapter probably could have been added onto the last one but I decided that would be too much confusion to mess with it now…so here it is a separate post. I personally kind of like this chapter, but what did you think? I really NEED TO KNOW. So, of course, I will thank the three people who did review the last chapter **JealousMindsThinkAlike, Live In Today,** and** B** thank you guys so much! Just to answer a question that the majority of you were asking, if she had been pregnant than the baby would have been Dylan's. So, you all know the drill, YOU HAVE GOT TO REVIEW IF YOU WANT QUICK UPDATES…a big review a small review…it doesn't matter, just leave your opinion so that I know you're still there and still care. REMEMBER TO REVIEW.**


	11. Chapter 11

Like opening up the front door on a cold winter's night…you expect it to be cold. You watch the snowflakes plowing down like rain in a summer storm…you watch the icicles forming outside your window. You know that it will be cold; that your hands will be ice cubes and that you will be shaking by the time you reach your car parked just feet away. You know and expect all of this…but still it hits you. The cold air hits you like ice water as you pull open that door…it hits you in a way that you never even begun to expect. It hits you the same as it did when you departed earlier, but already you have forgotten. The ice water is soon only a distant memory and you drive home in the comfort of your heated seats and blasts of hot air; you are fine. She is not.

The cold air hits her but there is no solace; no heated seats and complicated heating systems for her…no, just shock. Not pregnant, not pregnant…like a ghost it replays back-and-forth, like a cheesy jingle from an even cheesier commercial. She doesn't understand this. She doesn't understand how this is possible. She had peed on a stick; she had peed on several sticks…almost all, certainly the majority, had had pregnancy written all over them. She had missed her period…it doesn't make sense. The words are echoing through her head but they don't compute…she can't comprehend them…they don't make sense.

"Any questions?" His voice is pleasant enough, and she has no doubt that he's used it and this very phrase more times than he probably cares to remember. He's a doctor, it's probably required of him; turn everything that somebody thinks they know upside down, ask them if they have any questions while they're still too confused to answer, and then scurry out of the room and head for the hills. It makes perfect sense, it's a good trap…but she won't fall into it. He is looking at them with a slightly raised eyebrow and that look of calm and serenity…a somewhat expectant look, but already his hand is reaching for the doorknob. He is turning it when she finds her voice, or, at least something resembling it.

"Hu…How?" Her voice is rattled to the point that she doesn't recognize it; Fang is looking at her; his gaze is slowly but surely burning a hole through the ice surrounding her; thawing her. It switches to the doctor within seconds; he wants to hear this just as much as she does. "I've taken a ton of tests…my period is over two months late… I just…I just don't understand."

The doctor shakes his head, not unkindly, but not exactly patiently either. "It's not uncommon with normal women…" He swallows as though feeling the subtle hardening of her jaw. "What I mean is that it's not uncommon with women, and I'm sure that your…umm…"

"Avian DNA." He does nothing to conceal the anger in his voice; he has long since tired of the whole normal/abnormal thing. He had tired of it even before he left and she can only imagine what his view on it is now…from the tone in his voice she has a pretty good estimate. "Her avian DNA."

He nods, "Thank you for that, because of the avian genes in you it is possible that that could have been an additional factor to the missed periods. As for the other, well, those tests are, as I'm sure you know, aren't sure thing. They are actually far from it." There is a pause before he gives a little half-sigh, one that he does a relatively good job of holding back, "Is that all?"

Distantly she nods; really she doesn't even know that she is doing it, not until he is already out the door, probably on his way to Starbucks or something…who knows? Fang is in front of her and she can tell that his hands are on her shoulders but she can't really feel them. She should be happy right now, she should be relieved right now, she should be each of those things; but she's not. Maybe she had been excited over this baby…maybe she had actually been looking forward to baby-naming and baby-shopping and all the like. Maybe she had been and she just hadn't known it…maybe it had been covered up by loathing over who the father was…there's a whole world of maybes; but all that's left is the truth. She had wanted this baby. She had actually wanted this baby.

"I thought you'd be happy." She looks up, his voice is that powerful, it is just a statement, and it is said in the same tone that he would say anything, but still it is powerful enough to bring her out of her fog. It's Fang and there's something in that voice, that voice that everyone else would regard as normal, there's something in it that contradicts that; something in it that she knows is concern. It's almost like he never left; in the course of just days he has made up for six years. It is nothing short of magic.

"Yeah, I thought that I would be, too." Her voice is a whisper and she didn't intend for it to be that way. She is still marveling over it when he grabs her hands, pulls her off the table…his arm is around her as he leads her out of the hospital. Unfurling her wings is an instinct; she doesn't realize she is flying till they are halfway there. She doesn't know where there is, but the recognition in her stomach tells her it is somewhere.

"Where are we going?"

"Your mom's place, it's time you tell them what happened. Everything that happened."

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long I've been swamped with homework lately and after that writing is not the last of my worries but it's not the top either if you know what I mean. Anyway, I'm happy with this chapter… it's a little slower paced than I thought it would be but we will have some major events coming up here soon. Thanks go out, of course, to those who reviewed last chapter; **amynotpond**, **whocares1313**, **Live In Today**, **ThatFreakInThePandaHat**, **123-Cat-Cat-321**, **FaxandReading. **Now, I've just got this crazy idea, what if, wait for it, EVERYBODY reviewed? How awesome would that be? Well, not as awesome for you as it would for me…but if everyone did I would give them all a shout-out! Lol, just a thought but feel free to try it out! Remember, the more reviews I get the quicker I write…so just think how much faster I would be tempted to write if I got a boat-load of reviews… Ah, possibilities! **


	12. Chapter 12

They are outside of her mother's house, the screen door is open and the curtains are billowing in front of several partway-open windows. Even from her perch at the edge of the sidewalk she can smell the aroma of fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies…or of baking chocolate-chip cookies. Her mom's chocolate-chip cookies; the best cookies in the whole-freaking world… she takes a step back; she won't be drawn in by their voodoo magic; not today anyway. She will not be drawn into that house. She can't be and she won't be… not even for cookies. She won't be the person responsible for wrecking this overly-cheery scene, no matter how unrealistic it is… she won't be the one to wreck it. She just won't be.

But then there is Fang's arm. His warm, reassuring arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders; a safety blanket that serves as a hazard all at the same time. With that arm she feels invincible…like she is sheltered from all the scrutiny and evil of the world… but at the same time that invincibility is a hazard because it also gives her more strength than she needs. More strength than she really wants; his arm is around her and he is urging her in the direction of the house… she is powerless to do anything but go.

"You ready for this?" His voice is soft so as not to carry to the open house just feet away… she knows it's only a matter of time before someone passes by one of those open windows…moves to walk out that screen door… only a matter of time before someone spots them. Still, though, is she ready? Is she really ready to burst whatever preconceived bubbles that the flock has about Dylan? Is she ready to admit to them what had been happening behind closed doors all these years? Can she ever really be ready for that? She doubts it. She highly doubts it.

So instead of whining about how unready she is for this next step, instead of begging him to let her have more time… instead of sitting down on her ass and just flat-out refusing to move, she nods. She nods and he plants a swift kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there a few moments more than necessary.

"You'll be fine…" His words a caress, his lips still not moving more than a few centimeters from her forehead, "I'll be right there."

She smiles, a grim sort of smile… this isn't just going to be a hard time for her… this is going to be a hard time for him as well. Nobody has seen him since the wedding and even then they had only seen him for a glimpse, not really long enough for it to fully register who they were actually looking at. Sure, by now they all had probably worked out who she was with… either they had done it on their own or her mom had done it for them… but still for most of them it would be a shock. If he's not just as nervous as she is right now then she would be surprised. More than surprised, if he's not at least semi-nervous she would be flabbergasted; completely and utterly flabbergasted.

"Okay." She nods again and together they take their first step, with hands linked they walk up to the door, ring the bell. Someone, Ella, yells for them to come in, they oblige and within seconds a familiar figure comes around the corner covered in flour. Angel.

The girl is speechless for a millimeter of a second, a second during which that Fang looks like an extreme mix between weary and uncomfortable, she wants to give his hand a squeeze but she doesn't dare under the scrutiny of the preteen's gaze. The girl stands there for maybe a second more before bolting at him, a huge smile spread out on her flour-caked face. She reaches him, throwing her arms around his neck before he drops his hand interwoven with her own; he drops her hand and lifts the girl up before spinning her around in a quick circle. There is pure joy on his face and she can't help but flash back to when he told her about his time away from the flock… about how his voice had choked when he told her what it was like to be away from them… seeing him now… it's amazing. It's beyond amazing, it breathtaking, it's breathtaking and she laughs; a beautiful, carefree laugh that she doesn't even recognize as her own. A laugh that does not at all hint at what is to come… but for now it sounds nice… for now it sounds completely right.

Even after her feet are back on the floor she doesn't let go of him, she pulls back slightly but she never loosens her grip. Her words are an excited breeze as they fly out of her mouth, "I knew you'd come back! I knew one day you'd come back!"

There is so much happiness in the girl's voice, so much joy and warmth… it melts her own heart and he can tell by the way he blinks that he is fighting back tears… "Yeah," He nods, "Yeah, I thought I would too."

His words are choked and she puts a hand to her heart to keep it from melting onto the floor. She can't help but think of how much different this must be for him… how surreal this must be. When he left this girl was seven… she was hardly any more than a baby, now… now she's eleven… she's practically a teenager. It must be either incredibly scary or just plain incredible, she's not sure… by the looks of it neither is Fang. One thing is for sure, though, he is incredibly happy.

From around the corner comes Nudge and she can almost see the gears turning in his head… trying to find something that matches the eighteen-year-old to the twelve-year-old that he left behind. It is obvious from the way that the woman halts that she is trying to do the same with him… she doesn't run to him… not like Angel did, but she does make her way to him… cautiously. She puts a timid arm around the neck that Angel has abandoned, once finding that her arm doesn't burn at its touch she wraps the other around and he pulls her to him. Something is whispered between the two but she is too far away to hear properly what it is; when they pull away there are tears in both of their eyes. More than a few tears, actually.

"I missed you, Nudge." His voice is more than a little choked and then the others are around the corner, Iggy and Gazzy, the gang's back together again. He embraces each of them and whispers a quick thank you to Iggy who is grinning hard enough shatter glass. There is no question in her mind now, Iggy summoned him, Iggy put the message on the blog; Iggy is the reason for her savior. When he pulls back from Fang she pulls her to him herself.

"Thank you, Iggy." Tears are racing down her face but she doesn't care, "Thank you for saving me." She doesn't know how he knew... how the one person who cannot see is the only one who actually did see what was happening. She can tell, she can tell by the way he returns her hug, by the way he just nods… he knew, at least to an extent he knew what was happening with Dylan. He had somehow sensed it. He had sensed it and he had posted the message on Fang's blog… he is responsible for her savior. He is her savior, this blind boy that she had known all of her life had saved her; he had saved her when no one else could. She laughs at the absurdity of it but she doesn't relinquish her hold on him.

"You knew didn't you?" Her voice is a whisper so that the others can't hear, not yet, "You knew about what he was doing…you knew and you posted it on Fang's blog, right?"

He nods, and she whispers again, "How?" He shrugs and she nods, the how doesn't matter… what matters is that it happened. All that matters is that it happened.

Her mom and Ella enter the room, now is the time. Her mom is almost glaring at Fang, but she doesn't care, his hand is gripped in one of hers and she squeezes it tightly. Iggy's arm is around her waist; she will be okay… with these two she will be okay. With her two saviors she will always be okay. So, with a shaking hand she reaches up, wipes the makeup off of her bruised cheek, and exposes it to the world.

There is a collective gasp not only from the flock but also from her mother and Ella… she winces, but doesn't blame them, doesn't say anything because she can't. She is paralyzed by fear under their scrutiny; under their horrified gazes.

"Oh, Max," Her mother finally cries and moves forward, taking baby steps as though afraid that the floor will fall out beneath her if she moves too fast… "Max… is this why… this is why you didn't want to get married to him… I talked to you… I yelled at you… and he was… he was hitting you…" Tears rain down onto her cheeks and fall to the floor boards, "Oh, my God, Max… why didn't you…why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how." She shrugs and tries to be nonchalant about it, but her shoulders are already shaking, "Mom, I didn't know how." She moves forward and suddenly she is in her mom's embrace… she stands there for a moment before the rest of the flock moves and joins them. It is all great, they are all great, but the only person that she feels is Fang. His touch… that's all there is… all there ever was if she is being honest with herself.

He is her future.

**A/N: Well, we are slowly, but surely coming to a close with this. Another chapter or two and we should be done… but wow, what an amazing ride this has been. Lol, on a lighter note, what did you think about this reunion chapter? I was going to focus more on Max telling her family about the beatings, but then showing Fang's reunion with the flock seemed to be the better road in the long run. Looking at it now I think I made the right choice, what about you? I know you find it hard to believe but I really do value what you guys have to say… I try to incorporate what you say into the story, too. Sometimes it just takes me longer. So, y'all know the drill, the more reviews I get the more inspired I am, the more inspired I am the more I write… pretty simple stuff. I have to, of course, give those shout-outs that I promised last chapter so I will do that gladly, so, thanks go out to: **ChickenNinja**, **xXfree spiritXx**, **amynotpond**, **Brightcloudof the Clans**, **Live In Today**, **JealousMindsThinkAlike**, and **ThatFreakInThePandaHat** for reviewing last chapter! The same offer stands for this chapter so please, review, review, review!**


	13. Epilogue

Wings; hundreds of tiny, little, fluttering wings tickle the walls of her stomach; that should make her feel sick, but it doesn't. It doesn't make her feel sick at all. It makes her feel light… lighter than she's felt in a long time… like maybe if it weren't for Iggy's hand warm on her arm she'd just float off, fly right through the stained-glass ceiling of the church. For the first time in forever she feels right. She feels completely and utterly right. All of the mistakes of her past… all of his mistakes of the past… they are all gone, washed away by the sunlight bathing them. This is their time… but it is also her time, and this time she couldn't be happier. This time she has it right, there are no doubts.

There are no doubts because this is fate. He is fate; her fate. Maybe once upon a time Dylan had been her fate… maybe he had been designed to be her fate and maybe he still is… but maybe isn't good enough anymore. Maybe never should have been good enough to start with. What she has with Fang, that is definite. The love that she shares with Fang… a love so strong that not even years can hinder it… that's definite. There's no maybe about it, he is hers, and she is his. They are each-others.

She is close enough now, probably mere steps but they feel like miles, the song won't end and all she wants is to be standing up there by him… beside her Iggy smirks; she resists the urge to slap him. She can see Fang's eyes now; see the golden flecks dancing in them, like his eyes are a pool of night illuminated by small flakes of light. They are beautiful and is lost in them… nobody is here anymore, not Iggy, not her bridal party, not the preacher, nobody… just Fang. Just herself and Fang… from the way he is looking at her she knows that he is temporarily blinded also.

Too soon her vision returns as Iggy leans forward to kiss her cheek… they have reached the end of the aisle. Just steps away from her, maybe two or three, is Fang. Fang is standing just feet away from her smiling that beautiful, little sideways smile. She returns one of her own before accepting Iggy's kiss and throwing her arms around his neck... startling him and even a little bit herself. He is still for maybe one second before wrapping his arms somewhat-clumsily around her as well. She chokes back tears but they are happy ones and through the few that manage to leak out she smiles.

"Thank you so much, Iggy." She whispers not wanting the eavesdroppers filling the church to overhear. She gives him a light peck on the cheek before whispering her last, "I love you."

His arms tighten around her briefly but he lets them go with a smile, "I love you, too, Max… Now go marry Fang."

She laughs, a merry type of laugh that sounds nothing like her normal one… she would wonder at it longer but it's as though he is a magnet; almost skipping she runs to him. While, of course, still maintaining some grace and humility… like maybe a couple of very thin threads of it.

She wastes no time in reaching for his hand; it's not even conscious, it just happens. He grins at her but doesn't say anything; he can't, because now the preacher has started. Not that she's listening to him; or anybody for that matter. All there is for her is Fang, in reality, that's all there's ever been for her. The ring slips onto her hand and she is hardly aware of it… she doesn't even feel the cold smoothness of it as he slips it on, she doesn't care to feel it. They exchange brief vows that fly by way too quickly… he says 'I do', and this time she returns it; nobody objects. They kiss and the world really does melt away, everything melts away with the warmth of his lips pressed against hers; her tears forming salt that is not lost on either of them.

"I now give you Mr. and Mrs. Fang Ride." The applause is lost on her.

**A/N: Well, we have reached the end of this journey and I have to say my experience with this story has been great... if yours has been as well please review and let's make this last chapter count and reach 100… a final hurrah if you will. Thanks to all the magnificent people who reviewed the last chapter, **berrycripii**, **Awesometastical**, **ThatFreakInThePandaHat**, **whocares1313,Brightcloud of the Clans**, **Maxie89**, **JealousMindsThinkAlike**, and **Live In Today**! Thank you all so much!**


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